


to the moon and back (an ever increasing gap)

by betteronpaper



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Clexa Week, F/F, It's Ridiculous, im winging it partly, it's just fluff, start as kids, this whole concept is, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 10:20:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10092035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betteronpaper/pseuds/betteronpaper
Summary: clarke doesn't know concepts or definitions as a child and lexa doesn't really care so long as she's with clarkeor that childhood friends to dating to married au when in kindy, that kinda turns into a Thing as they grow up and fall completely in lovebasically they're adorable





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaugthedesolator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaugthedesolator/gifts).



> bonjour! so, this is the beginning to a multi, but it reads in ficlets basically. wanted to finish all of it but also wanted to post something for clexa week. it's an au that's been sitting awhile and sculpted with friends. cute child clarke and lexa innocently together throughout childhood, freefalling in the feels of love as they get older. the dorks. first modern au too, let's see if i can keep characterisation 
> 
> also, the narrative format for this one is a new thing im trying, something from kurt vonnegut's cat cradle that i found charming. also my general... language is purposefully simplified a bit in parts because they're children, which will change as they grow older but hopefully it still reads in an engaging enough way overall. so yeah let me know how you like or dislike the format?

  1. _Best Friends_

“Oct,” Clarke whispered, tongue twisting around her best friend’s name, “Oc – Octa.”

            “It’s nap time Clarke…”

            Still, Octavia sighed, small and quiet – the size of her, and she shifted her head to face Clarke. Blanket ruffling, Clarke shuffled closer a little as Octavia blinked her eyes open, eyelids heavy. Usually, Clarke was the one being prodded by Octavia, if ever, during nap time. Nap time was one of Clarke’s favourite times; it was a favourite because Clarke could sleep and she could dream, and she always felt better after such time away from the world. Octavia, though, preferred being awake, preferred doing and moving, even if being in one spot, and often wanted Clarke to be awake with her. Being awake alone was no fun, not to her child mind. She had learned though that it was crucial that Clarke had her nap times, that it was much better they slept, as without them the blonde was prone to general grumpiness and a lack of passion for play. Truthfully, Octavia felt more energy after sleeping. So they often slept as meant to, but sometimes, like then, they didn’t. For Clarke to not immediately fall to exhaustion, something had to be different, and Octavia wondered why. It wasn’t Clarke’s birthday soon, at least she didn’t think, and she pondered perhaps if her friend got a puppy, or a cat, or a new toy they could play with. Tired as she was, such curiosity awakened her.

            “What?”

            “Shush,” Clarke hushed her, “not so loud. That’s trouble.”

            “Trouble,” Octavia murmured.

            It was one of those bigger words Clarke tended to sometimes speak, even though Clarke still had _trouble_ with her name most often. Octavia figured it was because of Clarke’s smart parents, not that her own mum wasn’t smart. This word, though, Octavia knew this one, knew it was associated with bad, and she quieted.

            “Who was that – that ne,” and here, Clarke stressed the n, “new girl?”

            “What girl?”

            “You talked to her,” Clarke whispered.

            Octavia blinked and thought, rubbed her eye as she yawned and said, “Brown hair?”

            Clarke nodded, “wavy. Is she nice?”

            “I think so.”

            Octavia did, though she didn’t talk to Lexa much. But the girl seemed nice, albeit quiet, but quiet wasn’t bad, and Octavia thought they could all be best friends – especially if Clarke liked her.

            “She has really pretty eyes.”

            “Talk to her.”

            Clarke blushed, small, but evident on her cheek, though it was dark. She didn’t talk to the girl but she was close enough to look at her and thought she was pretty, and she liked the girl’s braid in her hair.

            “She has green eyes. Green is pretty.”

            “Make friends with her,” Octavia sighed, and really she was tired now.

            “Okay.”

 

            When Clarke heard their teacher say their task for the day was to say something nice to someone, Clarke didn’t think much of it. She was happy drawing trees and flowers, coloured cordially on a page, making sure to stay within the lines – although she was still a bit messy. She noticed though when someone sat quietly across from her, and she looked up to see the girl she was talking about to Octavia during nap time. Her eyes _were_ green and much prettier up close, and Clarke immediately smiled.

            The girl smiled too, though small, and she inhaled a deep breath, slight as it was for her age and size. She was nervous, but the golden girl’s smile eased her.

            “Hello,” she began, and Clarke liked her voice, wanted to say hi back, but the girl continued, “you look like an,” and here the girl struggled, paused, as if waiting for the word to travel from her mind to the tip of her tongue, “an angel.”

            _An angel!_ Clarke blinked, her smile seeming to stay, her eyes brighter, because she was just called an _angel_ , and angels were _really_ pretty.

            “Really?”

            The girl nodded, her ear tips burning red, because she wanted the angel to like her, and she really did think the girl looked like an angel. She had never seen an angel, but they were supposedly very beautiful (another word for pretty, except more, Lexa had learned), and she thought this golden girl would be the closest thing to an angel.

            “Thanks!”

            “You’re welcome.”

            “You have really pretty eyes,” Clarke said, nodded as she did, and the girl blushed and smiled that small smile.

            “I like your eyes, and I like your flower,” the girl pointed to the page between them.

            Clarke’s smile was a grin now; she worked hard on the flower, and then she got an idea.

            “Do you want it?”

            The girl shook her head, “It’s yours.”

            “You can have it! My name is Clarke.”

            “Clarke,” the girl said, the _k_ stronger than most times Clarke heard it, and she decided she liked hearing this girl say it. “My name is Lexa.”

            “Hi, Lexa!” Clarke beamed, and Lexa smiled again, “Do you want to be friends?”

            Lexa nodded a tiny nod, and Clarke was bubbling with happiness. The two girls looked down then, when they heard Octavia from under the table, playing with playdough, or rather punching it.

            “Best friends!”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

  2. _Boyfriends and Girlfriends_

Clarke loved kindergarten. She loved the long days, that felt too long; she loved nap time and those days where she got jelly and ice-cream for a snack; she loved story time, and she loved playing with her friends, mainly Octavia and Wells, and sometimes Bellamy; and ever since they met she loved Lexa. They had only been friends for three weeks, but it felt like _forever_ , and Lexa was the person Clarke thought of for Valentine’s Day.

            Clarke only learned about the day recently, and she didn’t fully understand it but knew it was a big day, like a birthday. The difference was you celebrate with someone you like, specifically a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Those were new things too.

            “What are a boyfriend and girlfriend?”

            “Well,” Maya sighed, in all her elder wisdom, “a girl has a boyfriend. And girlfriends are for boys. And they’re special, someone you really like.”

            “Oh!”

            “Do you have someone special Clarke?”

            Clarke thought for a moment, her brow furrowing before they smoothed and she grinned, nodded.

            “Lexa!”

            Clarke always slept with Lexa during naptime now, and Lexa always loved Clarke’s drawings – defended them even, when Bellamy picked on one. They sat together during story time too, and even when they weren’t doing much Clarke had fun with Lexa. Clarke always looked forward to seeing Lexa the most, and being nearly always late Lexa often saved Clarke a spot. Lexa also calmed her down when she didn’t nap too well and stopped fights between her and Octavia sometimes. Plus, Lexa had the prettiest eyes. Lexa was special.

            Maya tilted her head and squinted, confused.

            “Girls can’t have girlfriends, Clarke…”

            “Yeah, I know,” Clarke said, nodded, because she understood when Maya had explained, “That’s why Lexa is my boyfriend.”

            “I don –”

            “O! Octa!”

            Clarke was running off before Maya could explain, even though she thought Clarke’s reasoning seemed okay. She _did_ say girls had boyfriends, after all… She wasn’t sure, so she shrugged, unbothered, and went back to drawing swirls and spirals.

            “Octavia!” Clarke called again.

            She ran outside to where Octavia was on the swing, with Lincoln pushing her gently. Lincoln was also new that year, and was Lexa’s cousin; both were similar in temperament, carrying tenderness and consideration. Octavia liked him immediately and he followed her everywhere, and Clarke liked him too, thinking him sweet and very clean like Lexa. They were both very cute.

            “Lexa is my boyfriend!”

            Octavia grinned, squealed, not knowing exactly what that meant but that it was something that Clarke was excited about, especially because Clarke said her name right. They hugged and jumped, feeling happy, pure and full in that childlike way.

            “Does Lexa know?”

Clarke shook her head at the question, but she smiled still. “I’ll tell her now!”

            “You should ask her Clarke,” Lincoln added.

            “Okay! Where is my boyfriend?”

            “There,” Octavia pointed while walking around the swing, ready to push Lincoln, “sandpit.”

            “Thanks!” and Clarke headed to her destination.

            Lexa was trying to make sandcastles, trying not to make a mess as she did so and be covered in sand. She had heard Clarke shouting for Octavia, but wasn’t bothered, and kept building her castle knowing Clarke would tell her anything. It must have been important for her to say Octavia’s name right.

            “Lexa!”

            At her name, and at the voice, Lexa smiled, her small signature smile, which only Clarke was mostly privileged to see. Lexa only smiled at things she liked, and she liked Clarke the most.

            “Hello, Clarke.”

            “I like your tower,” Clarke said.

            She promptly sat down as she spoke, and it was without thought she immediately took Lexa’s hand.

            “Thanks,” Lexa sighed, pleased with Clarke’s praise but not liking it much herself, because it crumbled very easily and was a weak tower, which she said as much, voice small, sad. “But it’s weak.”

            “That’s okay, we can make it strong together,” Clarke smiled, and she started gathering sand to strengthen the base.

            Lexa watched, feeling warmth wash over her as Clarke did so, all with one hand; and Lexa smiled because Clarke was very pretty then, and she made _everything_ better, even her weak tower. So lost in child-musing Lexa was, admiring Clarke, Lexa almost missed Clarke’s words.

            “Lexa, do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

            Lexa’s brows furrowed, slightly, at the question. She was smart, she knew the word _beautiful_ – which was Clarke – but she never really heard the word boyfriend before.

            “What’s a boyfriend, Clarke?”

            “Someone special - most special, that you _really_ like. They’re boyfriends for girls.”

            “I’m special?”

            Lexa’s voice was almost small, for all her easy confidence to face bullies like Tristan, and her eyes felt watery. Lexa didn’t know why, but she _felt_ small, and somehow large because Clarke thought her special.

            “Most special,” Clarke said, kind and true, and her eyes were bluer then.

            “You’re special too,” Lexa smiled, rubbed her eyes, then nodded, “Okay, Clarke,” because she didn’t much care what Clarke called her, so long as she was in Clarke’s life, “I’m your boyfriend.”

            Even though Lexa didn’t understand exactly, the words alone made her happy, and Clarke’s smile was the best reward, and her hug was even better. Clarke made her the happiest, and she was lucky to have an angel in her arms. Lexa clung to Clarke never wanting to let go, and miraculously their tower didn’t fall even as their hug brought them down into the sand.

 

            “Mummy, Daddy!”

            “Hey kiddo,” Jake grinned.

            Clarke was bolting to him, and he caught her with strong hands that lifted her higher and higher, and this must be what flying was as they spun and laughed.

            “Down, down!”

            “Okay,” he chuckled, “How was your day?”

            “Good! Guess what?”

            “What?”

            “I have a boyfriend!”

            His first instinct was to laugh, but he reined it in, restraining himself to a wide smile, “Oh?”

            Jake glanced to Abby who was wide-eyed and blinking, flabbergasted and stupefied, probably thinking Clarke was too young to have a boyfriend, but then simultaneously remembering Clarke was a child and it would all be innocent; so she shook her head, and smiled down to Clarke.

            “Honey, do you know what a boyfriend is?”

            “Yep!” Clarke nodded, “girls have boyfriends. They’re someone special. You like them most.”

            “Well yeah, guess that’s good enough for now,” Jake smiled, more amused than he would ever be when Clarke is older and he would care for the protection of his daughter’s heart and happiness more seriously, regarding romance, “Who is your boyfriend Clarke?”

            Clarke pointed to a familiar girl, who had already slept over much within the last three weeks, coupled with Clarke staying over at Lexa’s uncle’s home.

            “Lexa!”

            Jake couldn’t hold his laughter in then.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

  3. _Marriage_

“Hey there, Lexa.”

            “Hi, Mr Griffin.”

            “Lexa you know you can call me Jake.”

            “Yes Mr Griffin,” Lexa nodded.

            Jake smiled and chuckled, knowing it’ll likely stick forever, “Are you looking for Clarke?”

            Lexa nodded again, her eyes shifting around in that quiet way as if to find the golden girl.

            “She’s just in the toilet, she’ll be out soon. Wouldn’t be a party without the birthday girl right?”

            “No,” Lexa said, and went to sit on the kitchen bench stool, which took a little effort, a little grasping.

            “How’s being Clarke’s boyfriend?”

            “Good.”

            “Well, that’s good, that it’s still good, even after awhile - at your age too. You seem like a good boyfriend,” he said, and his eyes twinkled almost as he did.

            Lexa wondered if that’s where Clarke got it from, because Clarke’s eyes seemed to twinkle sometimes, like stars. Still, in reply Lexa only nodded again, and she watched as he made food – cupcakes.

            “We’re getting married.”

            “Married!” Jake guffawed, “Things must be better than good then.”

            “Today,” Lexa nodded, sighed, small and light, “I have a ring in a sandcastle. Clarke will come see.”

            “Oh so you haven’t proposed yet?”

            At this, Lexa’s brows furrowed, as they often did when she was confused, and she shook her head, “No. We’re just getting married.”

            “I see,” Jake chuckled.

            “You need a ring to be married,” Lexa explained, very serious, and Jake smiled softly at the girl.

            “Well in some traditions, yes.”

            “Clarke _knows_ we’re getting married.”

            “That’s good. That helps.”

            Lexa nodded again – a habit Jake had learned Lexa did from her first sleep over at the Griffin’s home, “The ring will start the wedding.”

            “Well,” Jake smiled, and leaned forward, “as Clarke’s father I have to ensure one thing,” and really, he was too amused by it all, “do you love my little girl?”

            Lexa matched his gaze, didn’t blink, or look elsewhere, and, almost shyly, she nodded.

            “And you’ll always protect her?”

            Lexa nodded, a small smile creeping upon her lips, because she always protected Clarke, and Clarke always protected her too. That’s what boyfriends do.

            “You’ll treat her needs as your needs?”

            Again, more enthusiastically, the girl nodded, not exactly sure about the meaning of words but agreeing none the less.

            “You swear it?”

            “I swear!”

            Jake smiled.

            “What’s going on in here?”

            “Hello, Mrs Griffin.”

            “Hi Lexa,” Abby smiled warmly.

            “Abby get a camera, Clarke is getting married!”

            All Abby could do was blink, very much like the day Clarke declared she had a boyfriend – Lexa, no less – and chastised herself because, really, she should’ve seen it coming. Clarke’s idea, no doubt, or at least if Abby had to guess; although as she looked to Lexa, who smiled as Clarke appeared again, her eyes soft yet alive, in an old soul way, she wouldn’t put it passed Lexa. Well, play-pretend or otherwise, Abby approved.

 

            Lexa couldn’t exactly remember whose idea it was that she and Clarke were to marry. It might’ve been Octavia, or Clarke, or herself, or Wells – he always liked weddings. There were many at kindergarten, although Bellamy liked to ruin them, which was probably why it was happening at Clarke’s party, because even though Bellamy was invited he was sick. But she remembered Clarke’s smile and excitement at the idea, and that warmed Lexa’s tiny heart, caused it to flutter as it always had with Clarke. And just as Clarke hugged her after agreeing to be the blonde’s boyfriend, Clarke embraced her upon finding the toy ring atop a sandcastle tower. It was one of their best hugs, and as they pulled apart Lexa was greeted with Clarke’s smile.

            “I shall be the husband!” Clarke said.

            Once again, Lexa was a little confused.

            “Isn’t the boyfriend the husband?”

            “Lexa you can’t be _both_ the husband and my boyfriend.”

            “Oh. I guess that makes sense, Clarke.”

            It didn’t, Lexa thought, but she didn’t really know a lot about those things, and really, she was happy, especially if Clarke was happy, and she could remain Clarke’s boyfriend. Lexa smiled more thinking about it, because soon _Clarke_ will be _her_ husband.

            “You need to wear something,” Octavia said, coming up to them, puffing with a toy sword in her hand.

            Lexa thought she saw Octavia play sword fighting with Lincoln earlier, but he seemed to be playing that board game with Wells. _Chess_.

            “O’s right!”

            Lexa looked to Clarke, and pondered, “I have my commander blanket.”

            “The red one?”

            Lexa nodded. It was her favourite blanket, and she carried it everywhere. She was the _commander_ wearing it. She would let Clarke snuggle with it too during nap time – but only Clarke, even if Octavia whined about it once.

            “Yes, wear that! Like a cape.”

            As Lexa went to retrieve it, Octavia called out, “Wedding time, wedding time!”

            The exclamation threw everyone into excitement; the adults, adoring the children, and the children themselves, caught up in the fantasticality of such an event, joyous – a wedding being a game everyone knew how to play.

 

            Little Lincoln, dressed finely with a bowtie, gave both of them the rings to put on each other, as Clarke and Lexa stood before him: Clarke, with a flower crown, and Lexa with her cape.

            “I now pro…pro _nounce_ ,” Lincoln began, voice steady and having practiced as loud as his quiet demeanour allowed him, “you Clarke, husband to Lexa, the boyfriend.”

            Cheers from friends and present adults alike chorused, the latter chuckling and laughing at the display.

            “You may now kiss,” Lincoln nodded, and _oh_ , Lexa forgot that part.

            Still, Clarke was smiling, and was looking to Lexa, who breathed in bravery and quickly pecked her lips to Clarke. It was a soft, short touch that neither thought anything of, except they felt happy, their chests bursting with the feeling. There was no time after to smile to each other, even for Lexa, because Clarke flung her arms around the girl, causing Lexa to laugh, a short burst of a thing that bubbled from inside her. She ended up smiling into Clarke’s neck and hair as they hugged, swaying.

            “I’m your husband!”

            Lexa nodded, and felt warm inside as she pulled back from the hug and Clarke continued:

            “Dance, dance!”

 

            Jake had recorded the whole day, mostly filming while Abby took pictures. Full of amusement and charm and childlike wonderment and joy, Jake considered the day the most successful and memorable yet of Clarke’s birthdays – not that she had many under her belt. There were many moments that he enjoyed, that he knew when Clarke were to look back with her friends, if they remained, hopefully, would evoke laughter and good-natured embarrassment; and above all that feeling that settles in your stomach that times were good, were well, and cherished. His favourite captured moment, though, was after the party, the dance and the cake and the wedding and the opening of toys and gifts.

            Clarke and Lexa were dutifully asleep, exhausted, spent and spoiled. It was no surprise to him, as one of them would always, without fail, fall asleep for only the other to follow. It was this time, though, they slept close and cuddled, nothing new save for the holding of hands. Asleep, their chests inhaling and exhaling in quiet and small and synchronic breaths, they looked serene, and he silently snapped the photo. He already had a good caption in mind – ‘First Night: Husband and Boyfriend.’

__  
__



 Next Chap: 4. _Bellamy Blake, a Dumb Technicality_ 5\. _Headlice_ 6\. _The Good, the Bad, the Sad when your Spouse is Mad_

 

**Author's Note:**

> can find me @darlingheda.tumblr.com


End file.
